


Touch

by TheSongSmith



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftermath, Cas will fix it I promise, Clingy Dean, Comforting Castiel, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dark, Dead Sam Winchester, Dean Has Self-Worth Issues, Dean is bad at being taken care of, Depressed Dean, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Not Really Character Death, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Touch-Starved Dean, a little bit of canon divergence, but Cas knows what he needs, but maybe not forever, but really not a lot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-06-10 17:10:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6965863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSongSmith/pseuds/TheSongSmith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sammy is gone. Cas left.<br/>And Dean...Dean is not very good at being alone. Especially when the voices kick in.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>So I had kind of a rough week, and this one came from a pretty dark place, but I promise it'll get better! It kinda took on a life of it's own.</p>
<p>WARNINGS: Depression, mild suicidal thoughts, non-graphic self-harm in the beginning. Sorry, I know it's a lot darker than I usually go, but it just kinda happened. Dean really hates himself, but not for long if our favorite angel has anything to say about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo...this happened. For those of you following my other stories, I promise I'm working on those and am almost done with chapters for both (Un)Leashed and Shatter, but I had a shorter fic or two that wouldn't get out of my head.
> 
> This one came from a dark place, so I apologize if it's a little much, but I'm kinda weirdly proud of it. I have 3-ish chapters planned out right now, but we'll see if anyone likes this one first. Enjoy!

Dean is not very good at being on his own.

He’ll never admit it, obviously. It’s a part of him he hates; how much he needs people. It’s a weakness he hasn’t found a way to cover up, though he’s tried. Without someone else to focus on, the only place to go is inside his head, and it’s not a great place to be, especially not now that Sam’s gone; has been gone for months now.

He’d tried, of course. A string of one night stands, flirting with anything that moved. And it worked, for a while. And then it didn’t. And Dean lost interest anyway, listening to the voices in his head mock him for it, like they do with everything these days.

So he turned to the bottle, his old standby when he needed to not think, but being alone in a crowded bar made him anxious, so he started staying in. The alcohol helped, in a way. It dulled the pain, at least, and sometimes allowed him to sleep a few hours before he woke up screaming. It dulled everything else too, everything besides the voices.

 _You always knew you’d end up here,_ they tell him. _Why would anyone stay with you?_

_Weak._

_Worthless._

_That’s why no one wants you. You deserve this._

Every sensation, every emotion slowly faded, until one day he’d realized that he had trouble remembering the last time he really felt something, and he knew that should scare him, but it didn’t anymore. He’d stopped taking cases, and started spending his days locked in motel rooms, losing time while he listens to his list of failures on repeat in his head. In the beginning, he’d cringed at the words; screamed, trying to cover them up. Now he just listens.

And that’s how he ended up here, lying in bed beside a nearly empty bottle, idly twirling a blade between his fingers.

_Do it._

The voice is so soft that it takes a minute before he notices, gentle in the way it curls down his spine, which makes a sick, distant sort of longing kick up under his ribs. “Can’t,” he slurs to the room. “Promised Sammy…”

 _What does that matter now?_ It asks him. _He’s never coming back. Sammy hates you._

That one still hurts a little, but he’s used to the pain now. Sometimes he enjoys it. “I’ll go to hell,” he mumbles.

 _Exactly,_ it replies smoothly. _We both know that’s what you want. It’s what you deserve. You need to be punished for your failures._

Dean nods absently, resting the point of the blade against his chest. It would be easy, really. So easy he wasn’t sure why he hadn’t done it earlier. And sure, there were faster ways to die, but slow and painful sounds more like what he should get, after what he’d done, didn’t it? He’d bleed out before anyone came looking for him There was no one to stop him anymore. And even if there was, why would they?

The tip digs into his skin a little, and he hisses, pain sharp and bright through the darkness. And it’s so sweet that he digs it in further, just to feel.

He hears the flutter, a distant memory, and isn’t surprised to find the angel standing beside the bed, though his concern seems strange. After all, he is just a memory. “That’s nice,” he murmurs to the room. “I figured I’d crack eventually. At least it’s a nice hallucination.”

The angel’s frown only deepens, and he glances down to the knife, alarmed. Well, as alarmed as he ever got, which, if Dean’s memory serves, isn’t very. “Dean, what are you talking about? I must insist you put the knife down.” Dean only blinks up at him, the same soft, dazed smile on his face, and finally Cas reaches out to pull the knife from his grip, a move that Dean doesn’t fight, but which does make him frown.

“I thought all you people in there were in agreement. You’re just here to give me something nice look at while I go.”

“I’m not in your head,” the angel insists. “I assure you, I’m very much real.”

Dean blinks at him for another moment, his breaths starting to pick up. “You can’t be,” he says finally.

Cas tilts his head slightly, and Dean nearly smiles at the movement. “Why not?”

He sputters a little at that, annoyed. They’ve been over this before. “Because Cas – the real Cas – he…he hates me. Because of what I did. The same as Sammy. I failed them both. That’s why he never came back,” he explains. “No one comes back.”

Something strange happens in the angel’s expression, and he looks almost pained, though Dean doesn’t remember him ever wearing that particular face. “Dean,” he says slowly. “You’re not making any sense. It is me. And I would never hate you. Please listen to me.”

An uncomfortable feeling starts in the pit of Dean’s stomach, and he sits up too fast, the room spinning as he slumps forward. The angel grips his shoulder, and it’s like lightning, the shocks ripping through him as he gasps, squeezing his eyes shut. It’s too much; he hasn’t been _touched_ in so long, and he thinks he might die if it continues, and also if it stops. Cas starts to lift his hand, worried that he’s hurting the man, but Dean grabs onto his wrist, keeping him in place, because even if it’s not real, he’s feeling it, and he hasn’t done that in a long time.

“Dean, talk to me. You look like you’re in pain. I don’t understand. Am I hurting you?” Dean doesn’t answer, but opens his eyes, and they’re full of so much more than they were a minute ago. Cautiously, Cas reaches out for Dean’s thoughts. He shouldn’t, he knows, and promised he wouldn’t, but something is wrong and he needs to know why. The force that pushes back at him nearly makes him cringe, and it takes him a minute to sort out; to see the sheer terror and desperation in him. He looks down to where Dean has a death grip on his arm, and finally it clicks into place. He takes in Dean’s expression for a moment, more open than he’s ever seen, and makes a decision, his tone softening with his expression. “It’s going to be alright now,” he says gently. “I’m here with you.” Very slowly, he reaches up with his free hand to grip Dean’s other shoulder. Dean flinches at the touch, but keeps his gaze locked on Cas. “Will you trust me, Dean?”

He waits patiently, watching the nervous bob of Dean’s throat while he pushes away the guilt. He’d always thought of Dean as his human. It was clear now that his beautiful, fragile little human had needed him, and he wasn’t there. But he would be now, if Dean would let him. “It’s okay,” he murmurs when Dean looks to him, unsure. “I can help. I can make it stop.”

Finally, Dean gives a tentative nod, and Cas smiles. “Thank you.” He blinks, and they’re in a different hotel room, a much nicer one that will make this easier. He gives Dean a few minutes to process the change, overwhelmed as he is. Dean’s dropped the hand holding onto him in his surprise, but Cas doesn’t release his arm. After a couple of minutes he looks up again, puzzled, and Cas doesn’t need to read his mind to understand the question. “We’re here to get you cleaned up, and fed, and rested,” he answers.

A shadow of doubt crosses his expression. “But you can’t…I don’t…I don’t deserve that. Why?”

Cas frowns slightly, considering his answer carefully to find one that Dean won’t outright reject. He knows that, in this state, arguing about Dean’s worth is pointless. “Because I would very much enjoy doing that, if you’ll allow me to,” he says finally.

Dean is tense while he considers this, his breathing tight and frightened. On one hand, there’s the voice. _You don’t deserve those things,_ it reminds him. _He’s going to leave you again._

But what he’s offering – the chance to stop thinking, if only for a few minutes, to give his responsibility to someone else – it’s too intoxicating, even though he knows it’s only going to make it hurt worse, another memory to torture himself with when he’s alone again. He finds himself nodding anyway. Cas smiles, and it hurts how much Dean would give to have him do it again.

“Thank you, Dean. Come with me.”

He walks slowly into the bathroom, and Dean can’t do anything but follow, watching as he shrugs off his coat and tie, rolling the sleeves of his dress shirt up to the elbows. Finally, he reaches for the hem of Dean’s shirt, pausing when the man tenses. “W-What are you…? You can’t…”

Cas smiles, shushing him gently. “It’s alright. I’m going to undress you so that we can give you a bath,” he explains calmly. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. All you have to do is relax and let me help.”

Dean hesitates, a part of him screaming that he shouldn’t be allowing this; shouldn’t accept this kindness that cuts into him more than the blade did. But there’s something in the way Cas says it, a quiet, calm confidence that makes him want to sink into it, to give up control and let this happen, and it’s that part of him that nods. “O-Okay…”

The angel nods, gently pulling Dean’s shirt free. His eyes fall to the mark left behind by the knife, and his grace itches to heal it, but he knows that Dean needs to be eased into this, and he’s not there yet. Instead, Cas murmurs softly while his fingers go to the waistband of his jeans, pleased when Dean’s wide, unsure eyes stay locked on him as he’s carefully stripped. “Good, Dean,” he praises softly, watching him blush. “Let’s get you in the water.”

The man looks over, surprised to see that the tub is already full, and slowly steps into the tub, a small noise escaping him at the warmth. There’s a sweet, soothing scent coming up from the water, and he can’t help but sink into it. “That’s better, isn’t it?” Cas says, giving him a reassuring smile. “We’ll have you clean in no time. You’re going to feel much better. Just relax for me.”

Dean doesn’t relax, of course, but Cas didn’t really expect him to, only speaking to let Dean absorb his tone, hoping the surety of it moves him closer to a place where he’ll allow himself to be cared for. As much as he wants to berate himself for allowing him to fall so far, he knows he needs to focus his energy on Dean right now if he has any hope of bringing him back after so long falling prey to his own self-destructive thoughts.

Dean watches him warily as he retrieves different items from the cabinets. He’s fighting the impulse to let go, Cas knows, still hearing the voice in his head that tells him to resist, but Cas also knows it’s a battle he’s going to lose. He can be patient until then. He very specifically doesn’t ask for permission, but he does move slowly as he soaps up a washcloth, touching it gently to Dean’s shoulder before starting to wash him. Dean flinches at each new touch, but doesn’t pull away or try to stop him, a huge improvement in itself, so Cas continues to speak calmly while he works, watching him carefully as he hesitantly starts to relax, soft, breathy sounds escaping him.

The more Cas touches him, the quieter the voice in Dean’s head gets; the only thing that convinces him there’s a chance he might not be hallucinating. It’s dangerous, he knows, because Cas left him before, like Sam, and he could very well do it again, and he might not survive it this time. He should fight this harder, and he has questions, but he’s so, so tired, and he doesn’t want to fight or think anymore. He’s not sure when his eyes closed, but he opens them again, looking up at Cas, who smiles warmly. “Feels good?” the angel asks.

He nods, suddenly aware that he’s been whimpering softly when Cas touches him. He should be embarrassed, but he just doesn’t have the energy for that, and Cas doesn’t seem upset with him.

“Good. I think you’re all clean. Let’s get you dried off.” Dean makes a sad noise, starting to look upset, and Cas shushes him softly. “It’s okay, I’m not leaving,” he murmurs, stroking a hand through his wet hair until he settles down. “I’m here. Just relax.”

He manages to get Dean up and wrapped in a towel, drying him gently and helping him into soft pajama pants. He’s already struggling to stay awake, and doesn’t argue when Cas carefully picks him up, leaning into his chest and wrapping his arms around Cas’ neck. He doesn’t let go when they reach the bed, and Cas smiles, sitting down and settling Dean in his lap, cradled against his chest. Dean looks up at him, surprised, but Cas just smooths his hair back. “I’m going to check your health,” he says, settling a warm hand against Dean’s bare chest. “It won’t hurt.” Dean nods, his eyes fluttering closed as he rests his head over Cas’ heart, feeling the steady beat beneath his cheek. He gasps softly when Cas starts, feeling his grace humming beneath his skin, spreading warmth through his body. He doesn’t have the strength to worry about what Cas will find, trusting that, whatever it is, Cas will take care of it.

Cas hears the tail end of that thought, and he smiles for a moment, then frowns at how much damage he finds. Dean is severely malnourished, but when he glances down he finds the man nearly asleep, and he knows he won’t last through a proper meal. He debates his options for a moment, then makes a decision. He knows Dean will fight it, but he hopes that he’s earned enough trust to do this.

“Dean?” he says softly, smiling when his eyes crack open. “I know you’re tired. I promise you can rest soon. I’m going to ask you to do something for me, and I know you’re not going to like it, but I need you to trust me.” He makes a curious sound, eyes widening when he sees the bottle in Cas’ free hand, immediately going tense. “Shh, I know, it’s okay,” Cas soothes. “Look at me for a moment.” Dean obeys, though he doesn’t relax. “Good. I know this is a lot to ask, but let me explain. We have to get some nutrients into you before your body starts to shut down. I’d like to heal you myself, but your system is still very sensitive right now, and I couldn’t heal you without causing you a great deal of pain, which would put too much stress on your body. I know you’re not a child. This is just a practicality to prevent you from choking if you fall asleep, and it’ll be easier for your body to absorb what you need in this form. It’s just for now. Once you’ve rested we can get you eating a proper meal and we never have to talk about it again if you don’t want to, I promise. Do you think you can give it a try for me?”

Dean eyes the bottle warily, considering it for a long moment, then gives a hesitant nod. “O-Okay…” he whispers, blushing lightly.

Cas smiles, hugging him tighter for a moment. “Thank you, Dean. I appreciate your trust very much.” He carefully rearranges the man to make it easier, letting the bottle hover a few centimeters away and waiting patiently for Dean to open up himself rather than feel like it’s being forced on him. He gives one tentative suck, then another, and, to Cas’ surprise, slowly starts to relax, his eyes closing again. Though he’d like to believe it’s at least partly because Dean enjoys being cared for, he knows it’s mostly due to the easing of his hunger pangs. Either way, after a few minutes he’s boneless and content in Cas’ arms, a much better result than the resigned acceptance the angel was hoping for.

“Very good, Dean,” he praises softly. “I’m proud of you.”

Dean is pleasantly surprised, both about the feeling that spreads through him at that sentence and about this experience in general. He’ll still probably be embarrassed about it later, but it’s really not so bad, and Cas doesn’t seem to understand how weird it is enough to judge him for it. Though he hates to admit it, it is oddly soothing, and like Cas said, it’s just a practicality, right? He can feel the voices trying to get through, to mock him for enjoying this, but all he can hear is Cas’ calm words, and everything is too fuzzy for him to worry about anything else. Besides, whatever is in the bottle tastes suspiciously like apple pie, and he wonders idly if Cas did that on purpose. They still have a lot to talk about, and Dean is still hurt and confused by his abandonment, but right now he feels better than he has in months, and he decides that conversation can wait if this feeling can continue a little bit longer.

An embarrassing little whine escapes him when Cas removes the bottle, and the angel smiles, rubbing soothing circles over his belly. “I know, but it’s been a long time since you’ve eaten much of anything. If we give you too much you could get sick. But after you rest, if you want it, you can have more.”

Dean nods in reluctant agreement, and then Cas is rearranging him again, having a far easier time moving him than he should until Dean is cradled against his chest again. Though he knows it’s childish, he doesn’t fight the movement, Cas’ warmth sinking into him and chasing out the chill that took up residence in his bones all those months ago. Cas begins rocking him gently, and he should be embarrassed, but he just can’t bring himself to care, because when’s the last time he was just _held_ like this? Probably not since Mary, and it’s that thought that finally does it, the wall he’d put his emotions behind crumbling as they all rush back into him.

Cas’ hold on him tightens at the first sob, and soon he’s nearly hysterical, gripping Cas’ shirt in clenched fists while he sobs into the angel’s neck. “That’s it Dean, let it go,” he encourages gently, rubbing his back as he shudders. “I’m here. You’re safe. It’s okay.” He can’t stop the flow of emotion once it’s started, and his feels it all; every feeling he’d suppressed sweeping through him, released in tears and pained howls. His despair over Sammy, the pain of Cas’ abandonment, all the shame and frustration he’d carried, and the uncertainty and fear that came with their earlier activities; it all rushes over him so fast he can’t breathe, and he holds onto Cas for dear life. The angel just holds him through it, encouraging his breaths when needed and offering comfort where he can, but mostly just giving him time to work through everything he’d held back.

When he starts to quiet, Cas starts up the rocking motion again, hoping it soothes Dean’s trembling a little. “I’m s-sorry, shit, I’m so sorry…” the man breathes, still unable to release his hold on Cas’ shirt.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Cas assure him, hugging him tighter. “You haven’t done anything wrong. You’re allowed to express your emotions.”

Dean shakes his head, sniffing. “I failed,” he insists. “You’re being nice to me but I don’t deserve this! I was supposed to keep him safe, that was my job, and I…” A rogue sob escapes him, and he buries himself further in Cas’ neck as the angel shushes him.

“What happened to Sam wasn’t your fault, and you know it,” he says calmly. “You tried your best, and you did an amazing job keeping him as safe as you could. You can’t control everything, Dean, and that doesn’t make you a failure, despite what the voice in your head tells you, nor does this make you weak. I know how much Sam’s death hurt you, and I should have known better than to leave you in that state. That was my fault, and I’m sorry. But you’re not bad, Dean. And I know you don’t believe me yet, but I’m going to try my best to show you.”

Slowly, Dean nods, gasping as he tries to calm himself down. Eventually, his breaths regain a somewhat normal rhythm, his cries reduced to small hiccups. “That’s good, Dean,” Cas murmurs, kissing his temple softly. “Deep breaths. I’m here.”

A washcloth appears in Cas hand, and he manages to coax Dean out from his hiding place enough to gently wipe his face. Dean moans softly at the cool cloth, and Cas smiles. “That’s better, isn’t it? Now, I know we have a lot to discuss. But right now, you need to rest. It’s been too long since you’ve gotten any real sleep.” Dean shakes his head hard, his grip tightening again. “It’s okay. I’m going to be right here when you wake up. I know you don’t have any reason to believe me, but all I can do is promise and hope that you’ll give me a chance to prove it to you.”

Dean sniffs again. “What if this is just a dream?” he murmurs.

Cas considers it, stroking a hand through his hair lightly. “I understand why you’re scared,” he says soothingly. “But I promise this isn’t going away, and neither will I. It’s alright to let go now. You’re safe. I’m not leaving you. Just relax.”

It takes a long minute, but finally the last bit of fight leaves him, and Dean goes limp in Cas’ hold. The angel smiles, continuing the light motion through his hair as he hums soothingly, and it’s only another few minutes before the exhaustion overcomes the man in his lap. He continues to hum lightly, keeping an eye on Dean’s dreams, pleased when he sleeps peacefully through the night. Though he knows they’re in for a difficult conversation, he also knows how hard it is for Dean to give up even a little bit of control. For him to allow Cas to care for him, even if it’s just for one night, gives him hope that things can be repaired. It won’t be easy. But for now, Cas is content to watch his human sleep.


	2. Morning Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm sorry this took so long, I kinda had to wrestle with it, and I'm still not sure I'm completely happy with it, but so many of you guys seemed to like the first part that I figured I'd post it and see what you think. Someone pointed out that chapter one is a bit OOC, and I get it, but I'd like to think it's forgivable considering the situation. Still, I think this one is a little more in-character, but I'm sure you'll let me know if you don't like it :P

Dean wakes slowly. His mouth still tastes like whiskey, and like something else, sweeter, that he can’t really name. The pounding in his head confirms that he drank quite a bit, which isn’t unusual, but something still seems off. It takes a minute before he realizes what it is. He’s _warm_ , not just because of the room’s temperature, but from the inside, which hasn’t happened in recent memory.

He’s contemplating this new development when he suddenly realizes his bed has started breathing. A hand sweeps through his hair lightly, taking the pain of his impending headache with it, and a low voice above him says “Good morning, Dean.”

It’s the voice that startles him into movement, and he scrambles away, nearly falling off the bed for his effort. It doesn’t surprise Cas, not really. He’d expected Dean to be hesitant, but it still hurts a little. He waits patiently, observing his tense posture while Dean stares at him, wide-eyed and panting. “I know you must be…alarmed,” he says finally, when it appears Dean isn’t going to say anything. “Do you…remember anything about last night?”

Dean manages to take a breath, going through the fuzzy memories in his head, most of them blurred by alcohol. “Not a lot,” he admits finally. “Just…pieces. Cas…what are you doing here?”

“You needed me,” Cas answers simply. “You were…not in the best shape when I found you.”

Dean glances away, looking sheepish for a moment before his expression hardens. “Yeah, I guess so. I appreciate the concern. But I’m fine now, so you can go back to…wherever you’ve been.”

Cas sighs. “I can’t. For several reasons. But the biggest one right now is that I promised you we’d talk. I keep my promises. You know that.”

Something pained flits across Dean’s expression at that, and he picks at the comforter for a while. “What do you want to talk about?” he asks finally. “Things happened. It’s over.”

“I’m not sure it’s quite that simple,” Cas responds. “I know you have questions. I’m here to answer for my part in this.”

Dean hesitates for a long moment, refusing to meet his gaze. “Alright, fine. Why did you leave?” he murmurs.

Cas frowns slightly at that, puzzled. “Because you asked me to,” he answers gently.

Dean’s head snaps up, surprised, and he’s about to argue when a hazy memory surfaces.

 

* * *

 

 

 _“Dean, please. I just want to help,”_ Cas pleaded.

 _“Just leave, Cas,”_ Dean snapped. “ _It’s not like you care. Isn’t there some angel war or something you need to go help with?”_

Cas’ expression crumpled a little. “ _Dean, I understand that you’re upset…”_

 _“You don’t understand shit!”_ Dean shouted. _“You’re an angel, Cas. Things like you don’t understand love. So don’t pretend like you can empathize when you don’t even give a damn about me, and you never have! Just…get out! I never want to see you ever again!”_

 

* * *

 

Dean sits in horrified silence for a minute, shocked at his own words. “I…I hadn’t remembered that part…”

Cas smiles slightly, nodding. “I figured as much. It was one of the parts I remember most. Leaving you that day was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. And, considering my history, I’d say that’s significant. But I did it anyway.”

“You…just thought you were doing what I wanted?” Dean murmurs. “You didn’t want to leave?”

He nods. “Of course not. At first I thought that you just needed time, so I gave it to you. But you never called for me again.” He shrugs. “I understand now that you were in a great deal of pain, and that you were lashing out because of it, even though you didn’t really want me to leave. I’m sorry for that. Please believe that, if I had understood that then, I never would have gone. I didn’t realize what you might think. And you should know that…I never really left.” When Dean looks at him, puzzled, he continues. “You said you never wanted to see me again, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t see you. I was…concerned. So I continued to check in on you whenever I could. I just…couldn’t let go of you, it seems.”

There’s a sharp pain in Dean’s chest, and a series of memories flash through his head; the pained expression on Cas’ face during their argument when he’d said the angel didn’t care about him, the careful way he’d touched him in the tub, his patience during Dean’s meltdown. He searches Cas’ expression for a moment, then slowly shifts closer, though not close enough to touch. “You didn’t…you could have used your mojo to clean me up in half a second. Why did you do it by hand instead?” he asks carefully.

Cas blushes slightly, a small smile playing around his lips. “It wasn’t really about getting you clean. Well, it partially was. It had been a while since you’d cleaned yourself. But I knew you needed the contact, more than anything. It was the only way I could think of to get you out of your head. You were feeling so isolated. I wanted to show you that you weren’t alone. And I didn’t mind caring for you. I never do.”

Dean nods, watching him thoughtfully. “If you were watching me this whole time, why didn’t you step in before?”

“I was trying to respect your wishes,” Cas murmurs. “And I hadn’t been able to check on you as often as I liked. Things in heaven have been…time-consuming, to say the least. Not to mention, I was hoping to have a better idea of what to say to you before I returned. And besides, it…was not easy, to watch you from the shadows, to watch what you did to yourself. But you tried to harm yourself, and I had no choice but to step in. It wasn’t until you started talking about me hating you that I realized what happened, and how bad things had gotten.”

Being reminded of Cas’ responsibilities is like being doused with cold water, and Dean looks away quickly, the warm feeling in his chest evaporating. “Right. I’m sorry to tear you away like this. I know you’re busy,” he mutters, staring down at the bed again. “I didn’t expect my…outburst to take up so much time, and I’m sure you have more important things to be doing. You can go.”

To his surprise, Cas smiles. “I can’t, actually. I’m…retired, if you will.”

Dean glances up at that, frowning. “Well, sure, but you know it’s only a matter of time before they need you again. They always need you.”

“Not this time,” Cas answers, his expression softening. “The war is over, and the time I’ve been away has been spent setting up new leadership in heaven. I’ve made my choice. It does not include me. I’ve made it abundantly clear that I will not return. Besides, I’ve found a cause that needs me more.”

Dean swallows hard, everything suddenly too warm. “And…what were you planning to do, if I said I didn’t want to see you again?”

The angel shrugs. “I’d planned on watching over you silently, like I have for the past several months.”

“You…you would do that?” Dean asks softly. “Like…forever?”

Cas nods. “Of course. It would hurt, to not be able to speak to you again, but I care about you very much, Dean. I’ve always cared about you. If that’s what you wanted, I would do it.”

Very slowly, Dean shifts again, moving until he’s close enough to feel Cas’ warmth. He watches with wide eyes when Cas slowly lifts a hand, settling it lightly on his cheek, and though he flinches and gasps, he leans into the touch. “What about…now?” he asks shakily.

Cas smiles. “Now? I would very much like to spend my days taking care of you, if you’ll allow me to. You’ve been in the dark far too long, Dean. You need help. I can do that if you trust me.”

“So…you’re happy to spend forever coddling me, and, like, making me take baths and whatever?” he asks in disbelief

“It would make me happy, yes,” the angel answers. “To be able to give you comfort that you’ve never had…it would make me very happy.”

Dean blinks at him for a moment, considering. “I don’t know if you want that,” he says finally. “I’m not…very good at being taken care of, or…relaxing, or whatever. I can’t just…let go of everything.”

Cas chuckles softly. “It’s unfamiliar to you, yes, I’m aware. And I know that you’ll fight me about it for a long time. But I think we can teach you. Just answer one question, alright? Last night you let go. You gave up your incredibly tight control and let me take care of you. Did you enjoy it?”

Dean flushes, looking down at his lap again. “Yeah,” he admits finally. “It was the best I’ve felt in…I don’t know. Maybe ever.”

“Good. I thought so. So, if it made you feel good, and I enjoy caring for you, why shouldn’t we continue?”

Dean considers that for a moment, and it seems reasonable enough. There isn’t anyone left to make fun of him for it besides himself. Still, he’s sure Cas will change his mind. “I tried to sell my soul. Again,” he blurts out suddenly. “No one would deal.”

“I know,” Cas answers. He smiles, knowing that he’s already won this battle, but allowing Dean his time to process it. “I was there.”

“Really?” he asks sheepishly.

The angel nods. “I know a lot about what you did. I know that you haven’t been to the bunker since. I know that you spent several weeks sleeping in your car, rather than a motel.”

“It’s as comfortable as anyplace else,” Dean counters halfheartedly.

Cas chuckles. “No it’s not. You’re really too big for it now. But that was the point. You did a lot of things to actively avoid comfort, as a way of punishing yourself. You even ate foods you don’t like for a while. And that was when you did eat, which wasn’t often. I know that you were reckless on the few hunts you did take. You did a lot of punishing yourself. You even tried to provoke other people into punishing you. But you couldn’t rely on bar fights for long, because eventually you started to think that everyone around you knew, that they could smell it on you.” He frowns slightly, and Dean looks away to hide his red face. “That’s the part I don’t quite understand, the need for punishment,” Cas says after a moment. “You even dreamed about it. I had to pull you from quite a few violent nightmares about your father. Most humans try to avoid punishment when they can. You seem to actively seek it, and I haven’t figured out why.”

“Usually, once you take your punishment, it’s over,” Dean murmurs. “You’ve paid for what you did. But it didn’t work, this time. The guilt never stopped.”

Cas makes a thoughtful sound. “I see. Do you still feel guilty?”

“No…yes,” Dean mumbles. “I don’t know. It’s…complicated. How’d you know all that stuff anyway?”

Cas smiles sheepishly. “You were asleep for a long time. I spent the time figuring out what happened.”

“And you were…in my head last night, weren’t you?”

Cas nods. “For some parts of it, yes. I know you don’t like it. But you wouldn’t talk to me, and I was concerned.”

“No, I’m not mad,” Dean says quickly. He leaves out the part about being relieved. “I just…you saw, what it’s like in there. It’s not a good place. And you still want to tie yourself to me forever? I just don’t get it.”

“I do know what it’s like,” the angel agrees. “And I know that what we did last night helped. It’s not nearly as dark anymore. I’m not naïve enough to believe that it’s fixed now. You’re still very much grieving, and you should be allowed time to process everything. I’m just asking that you trust me, and allow me to help you through this.”

Dean frowns, turning uncertain eyes on him, but shifts a little closer. “So you know this isn’t going to go over easy, and you know how seriously messed up I am…why do you want to do this?”

Cas smiles, lightly brushing his hair back. “I love you, Dean,” he says, as if this is a normal conversation. “I always have. I would love nothing more than to care for you.”

The shock is written all over his face, which starts to slowly drift closer. Cas waits patiently, not in the least surprised when Dean seems to realize what he’s doing and jumps back, pinching the bridge of his nose while he mutters “Shut up, shut up…” under his breath.

Cas gives him a moment to himself before speaking up. “Were you going to kiss me?”

Dean startles, looking up at him. “Yeah,” he says, barely over a whisper. “Yeah, I was…” Cas smiles, gripping his chin gently. Dean sucks in a sharp breath when their lips meet, so light he almost misses it, but melts into the contact. When Cas pulls away he looks up at him with wide eyes. “Why did you do that?”

It’s easy to answer this time, and Cas smiles. “Because I wanted to.”

He hesitates. “Cas, I can’t…”

“I know. It’s okay,” Cas says soothingly. “You don’t have to.” He releases Dean’s face, offering him a hand instead. Dean considers it for a long moment before taking it, then suddenly pulls him closer, kissing him hard. It’s Cas’ turn to be surprised. “I thought you didn’t want that,” he says when Dean pulls back.

Dean laughs, hysterical and too high, letting his forehead fall to Cas’ shoulder. “I want it. Goddamn, I want it so bad. I just…I don’t think I can have it. I’m…broken. Fuck, you saw it last night. You deserve so much better than that. You shouldn’t want me.”

“I think it’s up to me to decide what I want, Dean,” Cas says calmly. “And that has always been you. But I agree that we have much work to do before something like that would be healthy for you. And besides, I don’t…know very much about that aspect.” He thinks for a moment. “I’d like to propose a compromise.” Dean looks up at him, surprised, but hopeful. “Perhaps we could…take things slowly, as you say. For example, the…kissing was nice. And I’d still like to care for you. I think you benefit from the contact more than you like to admit. Maybe we can start there, and figure the rest out later.”

A small smile plays at the corners of Dean’s mouth. “We could…we could do that? I mean you…you’d be willing to…”

“Of course, Dean,” he smiles. “I’ve waited this long. I would gladly wait forever if it means I can help you. Will you let me do that?”

Dean takes a deep breath, then moves, slowly, to curl up against him. He flinches when Cas’ arms settle around him, but relaxes into his hold. “Okay. I need help. Please,” he murmurs.

Cas smiles, kissing the top of his head softly. “Thank you. I love you, Dean. And I will do whatever it takes to deserve the trust you’ve put in me.”

“So where do we go from here?” he asks.

“I think we should stay here for a little while. You’re still recovering.”

Dean nods. “You could just heal me now, instead of spending all that time.”

Cas nods. “That’s true. I could.”

“But…you’re not going to?” Dean guesses.

“I’m not.”

Dean smiles, hugging him tighter. “Okay. How long are you going to do this for me?”

“Until you stop flinching when I touch you,” Cas answers. Dean looks puzzled, but the angel smiles. “And then, I’m going to do it for me.”

Dean snorts, shaking his head. “That was cheesy.”

Cas frowns slightly. “I’m not sure what that statement had to do with food of any sort.”

“It’s an expression, buddy,” Dean laughs, really laughs, for the first time in so long. “Don’t worry about it. But I do feel a lot better today than I did last night. I mean, health-wise.”

“I was able to heal you a bit while you slept,” Cas admits. “But not completely. I didn’t want to risk hurting you. To that end, I think we should get breakfast.”

Dean smiles, nodding. “I think that sounds good.”

He hesitates, watching Cas for a moment, and the angel raises an eyebrow. “What?”

“I guess I just…I still don’t get it. You have all the options in the world. You could have… literally anyone, any kind of life you want. I don’t get why you’d choose me and all my messed up crap.”

Cas frowns slightly. “Sometimes I am truly astounded at how little you think of yourself. I have always chosen you, Dean. No matter what the options were. That hasn’t changed.” Dean looks away, but doesn’t answer, and Cas sighs softly. “That’s an issue for another time. I think we’d better feed you before you manage to undo all of my work. We can talk more after.”

Dean nods, getting off the bed, still a little shakily. “Hey Cas? What was in that stuff you gave me last night?”

“It was just a blend of different compounds that your body was lacking.”

He nods slowly. “And… did you make it taste like apple pie on purpose?”

The angel smiles. “I thought you might be more agreeable to it that way. Why, did you enjoy it?”

Dean flushes, busying himself with putting on his coat, which he doesn’t remember having on last night. “Normal people don’t feed their friends out of baby bottles.”

“That hardly answers the question,” Cas points out. “It’s not as if I’ll mock you if you admit to enjoying it.”

He shakes his head. “Baby steps, okay? I’ve already admitted to needing help and made out with you, and that was before breakfast. That’s kind of a record for me.”

Cas chuckles at the familiar self-deprecating humor. It’s still not quite right, a little cracked and worn around the edges, but it’s closer to the real Dean than he’s been in a while. “Fair enough. There will be plenty of time to talk later. Let’s find you something to eat.”

Dean hesitates, but reaches out for his hand anyway. “Okay. Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there it is! There is much more talking to be had and future-planning to do, so if you'd like to see that then hit the little review button and let me know!
> 
> As always, you can also find me on my tumblr, link in my bio :D I take requests there, so if there's anything you want me to take a crack at let me know!
> 
> Love,  
> TheSongSmith

**Author's Note:**

> So, there's that. I'll happily keep writing it if anyone is interested, so...let me know in the comments or shoot me a message or something if you want to see more.
> 
> You can also find me at thesongsmithtumbles.tumblr.com and we can chat over there!
> 
> Love,  
> TheSongSmith


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